


The World is Fading, but all I See is You

by Fangirlingmanaged



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 76th Hunger Games, All The Damn Feels, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Canon Typical Violence, First Kiss, Hunger Games, Hurt Steve, Hurt Tony, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Protectiveness, Steve Feels, Survival, Tony Feels, Work In Progress, author loves hunger games, semi-happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlingmanaged/pseuds/Fangirlingmanaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Steve fell in love with each other but never managed to tell each other how they felt. Now they come to a very rude awakening as they get shoved into a battle for their lives, and they try to keep each other alive. They're young, and in love, and they were so stupid. they lost so much time, and now it's only a matter of days, hours, minutes before they never see each other again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hello, Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, i will like to start with... I am so sorry for all the feels.  
> That being said, the Hunger Games is like my shit i love everything that has to do with it, but i also loved the boys so i wrote this. i haven't edited it yet but i wanted to post it up and get some feedback.  
> Anyways, enjoy~  
> -Gabbs

A hundred years or so ago, the stories go, a huge wave devastated most of what is now called Panem. It used to be way bigger, had a different name that he couldn’t recall at the moment, but legend says it wasn’t as bad as it now was. Panem was now divided into twelve districts and one central city called the Capitol. Tony knows that most of the kids he knows used to think Panem was organized in concentric circles with the Capitol in the middle. But Tony has always known that that wasn’t quite true, Districts 11 and 12 were placed all the way to the other side of the country, he knows, in a place that was once called California or something. He knows that the Capitol is now in a place called New York, and that even before the Big One, it used to be very rich and very famous.

Tony, for his part, lives in a place called District 3. Each district has a specialty, something they mine, craft, manufacture, harvest, or hunt. District 3’s main thing is electronics, creating all sorts of gadgets for the Capitol to use as military weaponry or sell to its citizens. A couple decades or so ago, manufacturing these goods would have been the collaborated efforts of all the best engineers and mechanics in the district. But that was before Howard Stark, Tony’s father, won the games at seventeen and became the renowned resident genius. Howard came back victorious, District 3’s second volunteer in fifty years, and became rich and famous for his greatness.

Tony knows Howard volunteered for no other reason than to become famous, and he also knows that he only won because he was very charismatic and managed to manipulate all his competition. As Katniss Everdeen once said, nobody decent ever wins the games. But, thing is, Howard won the games, came back, got the girl he wanted and had Tony ten or so years after his victory. Now, Tony’s genius has flourished and everyone expects him to become the next District 3 innovator. Well, he _was._ He _was_ expected to create new and better gadgets than his father, he _was_ expected to boost District 3’s praise, he _was_ expected to have a bright future. What nobody counted on was the reaping for the seventy-sixth annual Hunger Games. What nobody, only Tony, had counted on was how much the young Stark loved the boy with the bright blue eyes.

                                                                                                ***

It was damn scorching in the July sun, and all seventeen year old Tony Stark wanted to do was go back to the factory and keep producing the micro-chips the Capitol _so_ loved. It wasn’t that he loved the mindless work of reproducing the same thing over and over again, it was the fact that he could be surrounded by machinery and electricity and circuits and cables that made Tony feel _alive._ He knew he was lucky he had been born in district 3 otherwise he was sure he would have gone bat-shit crazy at age three.

He waited anxiously for the man from the Capitol to come to the stage and reach into the big, glass thing that contained all the names of boys and girls alike. It used to be that one tribute would be picked from both the boys, and girl’s bowl, but after the incident of the previous year when two pairs of tributes had managed to fall in love with each other and wreck havoc on the system, the Capitol decided that whether it was two boys or two girls wouldn’t matter. At least that way, the probability of falling in love with your fellow tribute diminished. Not that it had never happened before, the year after Howard’s win a boy from 4 and the boy from 11 had died together, refusing to let each other go. The year Annie Cresta from 4 won, the boy from 1 had flung himself to a group of mutts after the boy from 8 had died in his arms. But, it diminished the possibilities of two tribute falling in love even more.

As the minutes dragged on, Tony looked around his fellow possible-tributes. They were roped off by age, from twelve to seventeen, all dressed on their best clothes. For some, it merely meant a clean shirt for once, for others, like Tony, it meant new clothes and a golden pin his mother had given him before she died. He looked around for that familiar mop of sun-kissed hair, the tall, muscular frame of a gorgeous boy with blue eyes. At long last, as the man from the Capitol made his way on stage, he spotted him next to a shorter boy with dark brown hair. Tony immediately dropped his eyes, _of course_ Steve would be with James Barnes. He tried not to let the thought hurt like it did, but he was unable to help himself. He had loved Steve _for years_ after all, but the other boy had always only had eyes for Barnes.

The man from the Capitol went on for about an hour and a half with speeches, and presentations from the mayor and other important figures, and then the stupid Capitol propaganda about why the Games were “important.” After all that, he finally made his way onto the middle of the stage and tapped the microphone.

“Welcome, possible heroes from District 3!” he was too enthusiastic for the occasion. “it is with great honor that I stand here before you to present the future tributes!” there was a scattering of applause, and then the man cleared his throat and moved to the glass containing the names and plunged his hand inside.

This time the man didn’t ramble; he read the name and joyously cried “James Barnes!”

The next few seconds went by without Tony noticing how fast they flew by. He felt the breath leave his gut like a punch, turned around to look at Steve and the other boy who now looked about to faint, and the guards closing in to get him on the stage. Tony saw the way Steve’s whole face crumbled, how he staggered as Bucky reached for him, how Steve tried to hold on, the way the other people looked at them, and then… then he saw Howard, assessing and dismissing Bucky on the spot, and his resolved set. Howard Stark wouldn’t control his life, Tony loved Steve and Steve loved Bucky, there was _no way in hell_ Tony would let him suffer that much.

When Tony yelled out, his voice sounded way more confident than he felt. “I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!”

It took a moment for things to settle, a moment for people to turn from the two orphans crying for each other before they all turned to look at him. Once his decision had settled completely in Tony’s mind, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. How could he? When Steve was looking at him like Tony had just brought his friend back from the dead? Or when Howard looked a cross between flabbergasted and enraged?

_Well, Howard, do I finally make you proud?_

                                                                                                ***

Steve met Tony when they were both ten years old. He was at school; it had been a year and a half since his mother’s passing. A year and a half of horrible treatment at the orphanage, arduous work at one of the factories after school to “earn his keep,” a year and a half of being Bucky’s brother. The younger boy had been at the orphanage when Steve came in, shivering with only a bundle of clothes to call his own. He had no family, no friends who would take him in, so his only option had been the orphanage. Steve had hated it from the get go, he missed his mom and his old house and the sickly dog that sometimes came round to play. He was only eight years old and he was already alone.

Bucky had been living at the orphanage since he was three years old, he said. His parents had died of some sort of disease, and they hadn’t had the money to pay for medicine, and nobody had done anything to help. Bucky was well adjusted to the system, and he quickly stuck by Steve to make sure the skinny, sick boy got caught up to speed and started to get a little bit better. They’d been best friends since then, Steve had seen Bucky through his awkward teenage years and his eventual suave attitude. Bucky had seen Steve through the years of getting picked on by the bigger kids, seen him bulk up when he finally hit puberty at sixteen, and most importantly… Bucky had seen Steve through the past four years of having an intense crush on one Tony Stark.

At the beginning, Steve had completely _hated_ Tony’s guts. It wasn’t fair, now that he thought about it, he had never even talked to Tony to start with. But the teachers and the other people around the District were always praising Tony and his father, how Howard was a hero and how Tony was a genius. Then, Steve had seen Tony out with his dad, had seen the way he kept away from other people, especially other children. He hadn’t paid enough attention to him at school, Tony might be rich but he still had to go to the same school as the other kids, so he didn’t what the young genius was like when he wasn’t around his father.

So when one day Steve was having trouble putting a machine together, he was way too frail at fourteen, and Tony had stumbled around to his station and said “Hey, you alright in there?” Steve hadn’t reacted as well as he should have.

“I don't need help. Not from you,” he’d said in his “pissy tone” as Bucky was fond of saying. The one where he was overly polite and his voice wasn’t as warm as usual. Bucky said his eyes went very dark and they seemed to harden, said his eyebrows came low over them and his lips formed a severe frown. He’d pulled away from the machine to level this look at Tony, and the other boy had taken two unsteady steps back, his wrench dropping from his trembling hand. Steve had only remembered this fact moments later, but the image had been replayed so frequently, he could now recall it without complication. Tony’s brown, expressive eyes had gone all wide, and his trembling left hand had pulled at the sleeve of his working coveralls.

“Oh, well, um, just…” Steve hadn’t stopped frowning, and Tony’s eyes had darted all over the workshop to the other kids, his voice getting smaller. “I just wanted to, um, help. But, ah, I guess you… uh, yes, okay,” he then had straightened and Steve had heard the click of heels against each other as Tony’s whole frame had stiffened. Then with a last look, Tony had walked away stiffly, glaring at everyone on sight.

Steve had been bewildered, expecting a fight from the egotistical fourteen-year-old, but Tony had looked genuinely hurt. Steve chalked it off as the other boy expecting everyone to like him. he’d turned back to his machine to continue his work, but a sigh from the station next to him had made him snap to attention. The boy with the unruly black curls and crooked glasses was staring at Tony’s back as he made his way across the room. “Great,” Steve thought, “another idiot falling in love with Stark.”

“He can be so stupid sometimes,” the other boy said, and Steve somehow knew it was directed at him. he couldn’t agree more with the statement, though.

Still, all he said was “yeah,” he didn’t want to make an enemy out of the other boy. Everyone knew if Howard Stark wanted to ruin somebody, he could. He might as well have been the mayor.

“He doesn’t understand that some people can’t see beyond Howard’s shadow. He thinks everyone knows he’s acting when he’s around his father,” the other boy said pointedly, and Steve snapped his head around. the other boy, Bruce, Steve remembered, had already moved away. When Steve found him again, he was with Tony, a hand on the other young genius. Tony was just shaking his head, shrugging, and Steve had felt the disgust back. Of course everyone would try to comfort the brat.

But then, as the days turned into weeks and then into months, Steve had found himself paying more attention to Tony. He hadn’t wanted to in the beginning, was annoyed with himself really, until one day an idiot kid named Hammer had been harassing a quiet, smart redheaded girl named Pepper and Tony had defended her in the court yard. The scuffle had come to blows, with Tony besting the other, bigger boy, before one of the teachers had carried them both into the office. Steve had gone to Pepper to check on her, another redhead named Natasha and the curly haired boy from a few months past were with her.

Steve hadn’t understood why she was so shaken, she was crying by that point which seemed weird given the fact that she hadn’t been at all scared when Hammer was so close to her. And then Steve had gotten close to her and had heard what she was babbling about and his heart had literally beat so hard he thought it might pound out of his chest.

“It’s just, Bruce, you know what would happen. I told him, I _told_ him to just let it go. But Justin, and then he grabbed my arm, and I could have knocked him out. Or Nat could have,” at this point the other redhead had nodded solemnly while clutching the girl’s hand. “But you know how he gets; he thinks he has to protect everyone. And then I couldn’t pull them apart. And now Howard’s going to do something horrible and I just, I can’t” and then she grabbed hold of the other redhead and cried.

Steve found himself rooted to the spot, watching them and hearing the words over and over in his head. And then the boy, Bruce, had looked over their shoulders at him, the intensity of his stare making him feel lower than scum before Steve had turned around and gone back to Bucky.

Tony Stark came back with a sprained wrist and a black eye the next day, injuries they all knew hadn’t come from the fight with Hammer. They all knew Tony wasn’t clumsy enough to just “trip” either. Steve had found himself looking at the young genius for most of his time at school that day, and he hadn’t stopped ever since.

                                                                                                ***

Steve heard Bucky’s name and froze, his brain unable to reboot and understand what was happening. Everything else faded away until all he could hear was his own breathing and his wildly beating heart. And then Bucky had lunged for him, and he had lunged for Bucky’s hand. a guard had pushed him away, Denver, he knew him, he had given them cookies once. Denver had then pushed him away, sadly telling him there was nothing he could do, and then Bucky was being dragged away.

Steve had then realized there was only one way he could fix what was happening, there was only one way to save the boy who had saved _him_ , and that was to volunteer. Put his neck on the line so Bucky didn’t have to; give himself up for slaughter so he wouldn’t lose anyone else the same way he’d lost Pops to the explosion or Ma to the illness and poverty. It was on the tip of his tongue to volunteer, but then another voice had ringed loud and confident.

“ _I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!”_

And then Bucky was clutching at him, the younger boy trembling in his now developed arms, and Steve was clinging to him like he would never let go. And he didn’t want to, in those precious seconds when he didn’t recognize the voice, he clung to James Bucky Barnes with all he had. But then, _then_ , he heard the gasps from the other boys, heard Denver swear under his breath and saw the guards move around them to get the other poor bastard. No, not the poor bastard, Bucky and Steve’s guardian angel. He pulled his head high enough to look over Bucky’s head and found two dark brown eyes looking at him, a face he knew well, a face too old for its year, looking at him like there was nothing else in the world.

The world crumbled from under him, and Bucky staggered backwards as he was forced to support all of Steve’s weight. “Rogers, what’s wrong?” and then Bucky turned his head just far enough to see the boy that was being dragged up to the stage and the trembling returned to his arms. “Oh, shit, oh no, no, no, Steve, no.”

But Steve wasn’t hearing any of that, all he could see and focus on once he regained his balance was the fact that the boy he had fallen in love with was standing up on that stage. The fact that the boy he had been so willing to dismiss a few years back had given himself up to save his best friend. And a part of him wanted to cry out, wanted to push Bucky up there and take Tony back, keep Tony safe, keep him fucking _alive_.

“Well, this is a pleasing development! Trying to keep the fame in the family, eh, Anthony?” the man from the Capitol asked coyly. Steve saw the shutters when nobody else did, he saw the way Tony stood straighter and stiffer, saw  the way his fists clenched, saw the way his eyes turned cold, and dark, and _old._

“Of course, Le-Anne,” Tony said with the patented Stark grin, the fake one Steve hated seeing. “Gotta bring the crown back to Three.”

“That’s the spirit! Give it up for your very own volunteer!” but nobody clapped, nobody even made a sound. Instead, in a sign that would most likely result in punishment, the whole of District 3 touched three fingers of their left hand to their lips and showed them up to Tony.

Howard Stark then rose from his seat as Tony made his way to the side to allow Le-Anne to pick out the next name, and Steve saw the true horror of Tony’s life play right before his eyes. He saw Howard clap a hand on Tony’s shoulder, saw the boy wince and curl up from the force of it, saw Howard leaning forward to whisper something in his ear, and felt his heart break as Tony gulped and pushed back tears.

“And our next tribute is,” Le-Anne seemed to think a dramatic pause was necessary, and then “Steven Rogers!”

Steve saw the words forming in the other boys lips, he couldn’t hear it through the murmurs in the crowd, but he could read the horror and despair in Tony’s eyes. The words, “ _not you,”_ clear as if the other boy were whispering in his ear. And then he had to wrench himself from Tony’s eyes because Bucky was crying and trembling again, and he was trying to say something but couldn’t get it out through the hiccupping.

“No,” Steve told him harshly, because he knew what Bucky was trying to say. Barnes looks up at him with horror and pain in his eyes, refusing to let him go. “He sacrificed himself to keep you alive, Bucky. You are _not_ going to throw that back in his face. You will stay here, and you will live for the both of us.” He was being pulled away by Denver, and Bruce suddenly appeared to keep Bucky from doing or saying anything stupid. “You take care of him for me, you hear?” Bruce met his eyes and nodded solemnly. And then he was gone, up a set of stairs and onto the platform.

He didn’t hear whatever Le-Anne said to introduce him, just felt his hand on his shoulder and the heat of his skin. He didn’t know what his expression was like, but he was sure it wasn’t that pretty. “It sure is an honor to be in these games with a Stark, isn’t it?” and then Steve was looking at him, seeing the carefully constructed façade cracking, seeing those chocolate eyes looking at him as if waiting to wake up from a nightmare.

“It sure is,” Steve says, because there’s nothing else. He’s loved this boy for years now, and soon he’ll have to see him die. At least, he thinks grimly, the last thing I see before I go will hopefully be him.

“Well, give it up for this year’s tributes!” and Steve has to hand it to his District, that they manage to pull the same stunt twice with perfect synchronization. In a final display of respect, in a final goodbye, they all give them the dead Mockingjay’s three finger salute. “Well, shake hands.”

And Tony turns to him, and he turns to Tony, and suddenly there’s nothing else in the world but both of them. Terrified, horrified, and broken beyond repair. One more than the other, that’s for sure, and Tony’s façade is back but that doesn’t keep the trembling at bay, but he’s trying so hard. And Steve just wants to pull him close and promise that he’ll send him back home, that he _will_ die for him, but he can’t; the words are stuck on his throat and then Tony’s hand is ripped from his.

He watches as Howard Stark leads his son into the justice building, his grip harsh and unwavering. And then there’s a hand on Steve’s shoulder and he’s being pushed into to building by Denver, and there’s nothing in Steve’s mind but fear. Fear and love, and the concrete knowledge that he will be dead in less than a month.

So there’s Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, tributes from District Three. Seventeen long, arduous, painful years lived and asked to endure another horror, another torture. There’s Steve and Tony, seventeen years old and in love. There’s Steve and Tony, en route to the arena of the Seventy Sixth Annual Hunger Games. Knowing the odds have _never_ been in their favor.


	2. Wish I Was Cold As Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Wish i was cold as stone  
> then i wouldn't feel a thing  
> wish i didn't have this heart  
> then i wouldn't feel the sting of the rain"  
> Cold as Stone-Lady Antebellum.
> 
> Steve and Tony say their goodbyes.

The first thought in Tony’s mind as he is unceremoniously tossed into a room in the justice building is that he is well and truly fucked. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he was supposed to volunteer for the Barnes kid and ensure Steve’s happiness. Rogers was supposed to turn eighteen in a couple months, his name was supposed to come out of the reapings, there weren’t supposed to be any more teserea or close calls for him. Steve was supposed to be _happy_ for shit’s sake, and now they’re both stuck in these stupid Games, and Tony knows one thing for sure and that is that Steve might die soon, and it is making the trembling in his left hand worse.

And then there’s someone entering his room, and he sees the imposing figure of his father, the scowl on his face and the hate in his eyes and he feels so damn _weary_ of everything and he isn’t even fighting yet. Howard stares at him for a long moment, saying nothing, looking at Tony like he can’t believe how stupid he is, and Tony has to agree with him because this has been his worse idea yet, but he can’t tear his eyes away from his father. Stark Senior is still not talking to Tony, so he does what he usually does and starts rambling. He only has about two more minutes and then he will never see his father again, and even though the guy has been a total dick since his mum died, there’s no way to deny the fact that all Tony has ever wanted is affection from his father.

“Look, I know you think I'm crazy, and dumb, and suicidal. Hell, I'm thinking the same thing too, have been thinking that for a couple years now, but even I have to admit this takes the cake. I know how disappointed you are, and I know you're here to tell me that I need to win these Games. I know you’re here to tell me I'm a Stark and that I need to win, but can we please not do that? I mean, I've already played everything you can possibly tell me in my head, I've already told myself all the insults you will attribute to me, and I don’t care to hear them again. And if these are the last minute and a half of us being together I just want you to know… I just want you to know that I am so damn sorry, for everything I have ever done to disappoint you,” there was a huge lump in his throat, and his shoulders were shaking, and he couldn’t raise his head to look at Howard in the eye. And then he finally tells Howard what he’s wanted to tell him since he was small, and his voice comes out cracked and thin but he’s sure Howard can hear him. “I'm sorry I killed my mum, I'm sorry she died because I was born, I'm sorry you lost her, and I'm sorry I'm now forcing you to lose me over something _so goddamn stup—“_

“It’s not,” it’s the first words Howard has spoken and his voice is trembling, and frail, and Tony’s head snaps up to see actual tears in his father’s eyes. “It’s not a stupid reason. It’s brave and outstanding, and I'm not thinking any of those things you probably have in your head. I'm sorry I've neglected you to the point of thinking I hate you, I'm sorry I decided to drown my sorrows in spirits. Son,” and then Howard’s _right there_ with his hands in Tony’s shaking soldiers. He can’t remember the last time his father called him that, and he can’t help the wave of emotion that runs through him. “I am so proud of you right now. You are giving up everything you have, you might _die_ in there,” and Tony isn’t offended by that, because Howard really doesn’t mean it in a derogatory way, he can see that now. He’s just saying it because it’s a possibility and he’s afraid of it, they both are.  “And you're doing it because you love this boy more than anything else. If there’s anything in me right now other than fear for your wellbeing, Tony, it’s pride. Because I saw the way you looked at him, and I know you love him. I'm glad you found that.”

And then Tony does something he would have considered incredibly stupid not ten minutes ago, he launches himself into his father’s arms. Before he can regret it, before he can freak out and fear a lashing out, Howard’s arms wrap around him and squeeze him tight. Tony feels a sob wrench itself from his chest, and there’s Howard’s hand holding the back of his head and Tony can finally put those demons to rest. Howard’s proud, his father loves him, and it might be too late for that now but at least now Tony might actually be able to die in peace.

And then there’s a guard, this time it’s not Denver but some other guy he thinks is name Bree, and Howard’s being forced out of the room, but not before a last goodbye.

“I love you, Iron Man, son,” Howard tells him as he’s dragged out of the room.

“It’s Iron Boy,” he replies immediately, not even thinking about it. And Howard smiles sadly at him, and shakes his head, leaving Tony behind wondering what he meant by that.

And then he’s gone, and a few minutes later Pepper’s making her way into the room with tears streaming hotly down her face. And they just stand there in the middle of the room, holding onto each other like they’re somehow genetically joined front to front, and they breathe each other’s scents because this is the last time they will. And then their moment’s over, and Pepper’s sobbing and asking him to try to win, and Tony can’t even promise her that. Because if he tries, if he actually attempts to succeed, then in the end Steve will not be coming back and Tony simply can’t afford that. So he just shakes his head lightly and hugs her tight again, and now she’s shaking because she knows, _of course_ she knows, and then Bree’s dragging her out too.

Then, his third and fourth visitors come in, surprising him more than even Howard. Bruce and the redhead Natasha make their way into his room quietly and just kind of stare at him as if they’re trying to figure him out. And normally he wouldn’t mind that but right now he can’t figure out why they’re there. Sure, he and Bruce have done a ton of shit together and he supposed if their roles were reversed he would be missing Bruce already too, but still. And he can’t understand why Nat’s there, they’re not friends, not really, but she’s still there. Tony appreciates her calm and cold face because at this moment he is anything but.

“I know you won’t heed the advice, but do everything you can to stay alive,” is the only thing Bruce says and Tony can’t do anything but nod. And then one of them grabs one of his hands, and the other takes hold of the other one and they all just stand there in a little circle, and Tony thinks it might have been awkward before but for some reason right now it isn’t.

And then Bree comes back in, and Tony gets tackled by both of them, and it isn’t until then that he realizes they’re trembling. It isn’t until then that he realizes they actually might care for him, not because of Howard or science or Pepper, but because he is _Tony_. So he hugs them back as fiercely as he can and drags one last promise from their lips.

“Take care of him for us,” and they both know who he’s talking about so they nod. Then they have to go, and Tony thinks that’s it. They’ve dragged his departure for long enough, the next time the door opens he expects it to be one of the guards but instead he finds himself looking into red rimmed eyes and disheveled dark hair. It barely registers before he has an awkward, trembling sixteen year old boy in his arms. And even thought Tony has been jealous of this boy for the past six years, all he can do is hug him back and make promises in his ear.

“He’s coming back, Bucky. I’ll make sure of it, believe me, I will. He’s not going to leave you, I won’t let that happen, I swear. You’re gonna get him back, I promise, even if it costs me my life.”

“You’re his only hope, now, Stark. You’re his only salvation,” is all Bucky can get out before he goes back to clutching at Tony. And the young Stark wishes he could hate him, wishes he could be petty and tell him no, but the truth is he can see the love between those two and can’t help but want to do anything he can to help them be reunited. “You gotta keep him safe.”

Tony can’t get anything more than a choked _I will_ before the guard comes to collect Bucky. But before he goes, the younger boy grabs hold of his shoulders and gives him a little shake. “Tell him, before you go into the arena, before anything happens, _tell him_.” the breath leaves Tony like he was punched in the gut, because somehow Bucky knew the truth and was advising him to just come clean. Before he can form a reply, the other boy is gone and Tony simply stares at the door.

A man in his late twenties comes in next; Tony has seen him around the District and during previous Games before. He has dirty blond hair and dark, tired eyes, but he smiles often and plays with the little kids from the orphanage. He looks at Tony for a long while before he pulls him into an embrace. “What you did out there was incredibly brave, and incredibly stupid. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, and that I may not be of much help, but I want you to know that I will try to help you as much as I possibly can, do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir” Tony answers instinctually, and the other man just shakes his head with a rueful smile. He approaches Tony again, and then settles his hand on top of his head, and for whatever reason that’s what finally breaks him and he starts breathing raggedly. But the guy, his mentor who can’t be more than thirty, he just stays there for a while and lets him get it out. Tony wonders if Steve broke down the same way, and he wipes that thought away quickly because he can’t stand the thought of Steve feeling this afraid.

“Before we go, before this circus starts, is there anything you want more than anything?” The guy says, and he’s staring directly into Tony’s dark, red-rimmed eyes like he already knows. Tony looks back, sees the deep weariness and sadness and repressed anger in the other man’s hazel eyes, and he _knows_. He’s known since he was fourteen, he’s just never had time to express it.

“I want you to help me keep him alive. No matter what happens, no matter what I have to give up, I want you to help me bring him home.”

                                                                                                ***

Steve was shaking long before he reaches his designated room, but he can’t seem to stop it. Denver has to put a hand on both his shoulders to settle him down, and the other man looks so sad that it kind of starts breaking Steve’s brittle façade. He looks down at the ground and bites his lip savagely as the guard puts a hand on his head and strokes his sun-kissed hair. He thinks he might be able to control the trembling, but then Denver leaves and less than a minute later he has an armful of Bucky and that just _destroys_ him.

Bucky’s inconsolable in his grief, he hiccups, and gasps, and cries against Steve’s chest. Steve can’t do anything but grasp him tightly, what else can he do? If he tries to speak he knows he’ll choke up on the big lump that’s lodged in his throat, and there’s no way he’s pulling out of that last hug. They spend half their allotted time like that, and then it’s Bucky who’s pulling away, and he already looks older. It seems like the last half hour has settled heavily into his brother’s little shoulders and he can’t stand that.

“Y-you need t-t-to tell him, okay, Steve?”

“I can’t, not now Bucky,” Steve whispers to him and the tears come out for a whole different reason now. If he were to start anything with Tony now, he’s pretty damn sure it would destroy them both. He’s kept his heart closed up for so long; he doubts it’d do him any good to leave himself wide open now. Especially since it seems like they’re both going to die soon.

“That guy gave himself up to save my life,” Bucky said forcefully, like he was trying really hard not to dwell on that fact. As well he should, what’s the point in him torturing himself with something neither of them can change? Before he can come up with an answer, Bucky grabs him by the front of his shirt and forces their eyes to meet. “He didn’t do that for me, Rogers, and we both know that very well. You can’t keep this from him, not now.”

Before Steve can form a reply, he hears the heavy thread of someone outside the door and his face must alert Bucky because he’s pulled back into his brother’s arms. He squeezes as tightly as he possibly can without hurting the other boy, and Bucky just clings to him. Denver’s suddenly there to drag him away, though, and Steve tries to block his ears to the way Bucky’s breaths aren’t even anymore or the little sobs that are escaping them both. He knows he’s not successful, he also knows that when he closes his eyes from then till the time of his death, he’ll keep hearing them in his nightmares.

He’s visited by Natasha and Bruce next, which realistically surprises him. He didn’t know them very well, they’d only conversed a few times over the past four years. He’s a little embarrassed to admit, even to himself, that at the beginning he had only talked to them to find out things about Tony. After a while, though, he began to enjoy the limited conversations they had. Bruce was pretty quiet and shy, but he had a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue. Natasha was quiet too, but when she spoke she was clear and precise and hit the nail right in the head each time. He didn’t know he was warranted a goodbye, though, so he was very surprised when they came in.

“Don’t let him do anything stupid,” are the first words out of Bruce’s mouth after he’s pulled him into a hug. Steve squeeze back perhaps a little too tightly, but that’s alright because Bruce returns the strength of it. He doesn’t need to ask who the other boy is talking about, but he can’t quiet meet their eyes. He can’t have them telling Tony about the way he feels.

Natasha drags him into her arms next, and he’s quietly impressed with the care and strength behind the hug. He tries very hard to maintain his control on his emotions, but as her hand catches in this hair and lets him bury his face in her shoulder, he can’t quite control the heat that pours out of his eyes. So he just stays there for a little bit, hugging back. Then she twists her head and whispers, very clearly, “you need to tell him. Don’t let him die not knowing.” And his arms convulse around her slight form.

It feels like no time at all before she’s wrenched from his arms by Denver, and it’s only then that he notices the way she’s biting her lip furiously. It’s the first time he’s seen her upset, and he can’t help but feel flattered at such a display of affection. She wipes one of her eyes and gives him a little wave, he waves back at both of them and Bruce contents himself with a nod. Then the door closes in his face and he feels his knees tremble and give out from underneath him.

That’s how his next visitor finds him, on his knees with his hands fisted on his thighs and his head hanging low. He doesn’t hear him come in; the next thing he’s aware of is a hand on his hair and another on his shoulder. He looks up to find a man with sandy blond hair and hazel eyes looking sadly at him. He’s athletic, Steve notices, and he’s crouching in front of him with seemingly no effort at all. Steve knows he’s seen him before, but he can’t quite recall from where, so he just stares.

“That’s no way of facing this, kid,” the other man says. And Steve gives a pitiful shrug because he literally has no more energy.

“I don’t know what to do,” is all he can get out. “He shouldn’t be here.”

“Are you going to disrespect him by throwing his gift in his face?” the other man asked with a hard edge to his voice, and Steve quickly shakes his head. He would rather die himself, a thousand times over, than have Tony here. But if both of them have to go, if there’s anyone with Steve when he dies, he can’t bring himself to think of anyone but Tony.

“No, I can’t regret it being him with me,” Steve looks him dead in the eye as he says this. The other man smiles down at him, and he know it was the right thing to say.

“What do you want for these Games, Steve?”

“I want to keep us alive for as long as I possibly can, Mr. Barton.”

                                                                                                ***

_“You better make my boy happy.”_

Steve replays that one sentence as he’s walked out of the building and into a waiting car. He’s distracted by it so much that at first he doesn’t notice that he’s not alone. Nobody could blame him, though; it’s not every day that one gets a private audience with _the_ Howard Stark. He’s still shaking from it, and he can’t help the little bit of anger that rises up in him when the man visits him. He regrets what he’s done to Tony, Steve could see that, but until when? Until his son’s being sent to slaughter? It’s too depressing to even think about. He’s sure Mr. Stark saw the anger in his face, and he doesn’t know how it could be humorous, but Howard gives him a little smile like he knows every thought in Steve’s head. And if he’s anything like Tony, he probably does.

“So I take it you’re one of those who doesn’t talk?” the words are spoken softly from the other side of the spacious seat. They’re so sudden, though, that they snap Steve out of his musings and make him flinch. He can feel the owner of the voice shift away from him. He turns startled blue eyes to equally frantic brown ones, and something makes them hang in that moment. Neither of them moves away nor even blinks.

“No,” is all Steve can think of saying and the way Tony recoils makes him swear in his head. He clears his throat and tries to start again. “No, I just didn’t see you there.”

“Already dismissed me, huh?” and the smile aimed at him stabs at his heart. It’s all brittle and cold, so fake it looks more like a grimace. Steve feels his stomach curl in an awful movement as Tony turns away and tries to blink away tears.

“Never,” he finds himself saying. “I would never dismiss you.”

It’s a lot more than he intended to say, it’s very complicated and very telling, and yet he can’t seem to bring himself to regret it. If these are the only private moments he’s going to have with the love of his life, he’s damn well going to enjoy them. He shifts a little from the door and scoots millimeters closer to Tony. He waits to see if Tony notices, by the way he freezes Steve is sure he’s done the wrong thing, but then Tony mimics him and then settles his hand on the seat in between them.

“You’d be the first,” and somehow it sounds like it’s more than just that. The way Tony stares at him as he speaks, it seems to say more than the words, and Steve finds himself elated and terrified of what’s happening. He can’t answer to that, though, so all he can do is place his hand on top of Tony’s and squeezing with all he’s got. Tony stares out the window, but he turns his hand palm up and laces their fingers together and doesn’t let go.

                                                                                          ***

Tony sees the crowd of people way before Steve realizes they’ve reached the train station, but he doesn’t let go of the hand attached to his. He can’t, but he also knows that they’d be facing more hell than the rest if the Capitol catches them already falling for each other outside the Games. Inside the arena, it’s all game, but if they try to parade themselves as a couple before the Games start? It’d be one of them dead and joining the Mockingjay. As they get closer, he turns his eyes to Steve and finds the other boy looking at him, not even concerned about what’s going around them.

Tony’s breath catches in his throat. Steve’s eyes are very expressive, and right now they’re telling Tony so many things he hadn’t allowed himself to hope for before. His fingers spasm around Steve’s, but he gets back a reassuring squeeze so that’s alright. He looks at Steve for a long moment, and then drags his eyes to the people outside and his agitation grows.

“Listen to me,” he says rapidly and under his breath. They need to be on the same page if they want to survive this ordeal. “We can’t do _this,”_ he pulls their joined hands up to eye level, “out there. You can’t hold my hand, believe me I want to, but we can’t do this out there or shit’s going to hit the fan a lot quicker than it needs to. We’ll pretend to be friends, and I’ll hold your hand as soon as I'm able but they can’t know, okay?” when he doesn’t get a response, just clouded blue eyes, he brings their hands up and kisses Steve’s knuckles. “Okay, Steve?”

Apparently that’s the only reassurance the other boy needs because he nods, albeit mechanically, and whispers a soft “okay,” to the seat. It tears at Tony, and he clings to Steve’s hand for as long as he possibly can.

Luckily, Clint Barton comes to fetch them from their car when they arrive. He takes note of their joined hands, but except for a small smile, he doesn’t give anything way. He looks at each one from his perch at the door, and asks the million dollar question. “Ready?”

Steve looks at Tony, like he already can’t imagine doing this without him, and Tony knows he needs to get the Stark spine back for this. Knows that Steve depends on him, maybe not for physical protection, but for moral support. For affection. So he looks back at Steve, and tries to tell him with his eyes that he’s there, he’s a thousand percent there, and the other boy nods back to him. He turns back to Clint and tells him the truth.

“No, we’re not, but let’s go. We’re in this together.”


	3. Who We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo hoo! Finally an update. Man, this chapter gave me so much trouble! But i am done with final exams and i suddenly felt inspired. I'm sorry i'm not that great at descriptions but if you've watched Catching Fire you'll know some of the things i attempted to describe. Anyways! enjoy! Stony moves forward

Their first night in the train, Tony wakes up screaming. Steve knows because he’d started walking through the hallways after his third attempt at sleep. He was so wired that he couldn’t even keep still long enough to attempt sleep. So, he’d gotten up and asked a servant for a cup of warm milk. He’s walking through their sleeping quarters for the third time when he hears it. It’s so painfully agonized that he breaks into a run and follows the sound. Just as he’s about to reach for the handle on the door, Tony stops. Steve thinks that maybe the other boy wouldn’t want him to see him like that. Tony would probably see himself as vulnerable in that position, so he half-turns on his way back to his room. But then Tony whimpers, a low broken name, and Steve realizes it’s his.

He pushes the door open and finds Tony pressed tight against the headboard with his knees up to his chest; his arms are wrapped tightly around them. He’s hiccupping and gasping for air, and Steve recognizes a panic attack when he sees one. The thing is, it’s easy to know what comforts _him_ , but Steve has no idea how to comfort Tony in a situation like this. He know it’s best if he doesn’t touch him though, that could make the attack even worse, so he just sits at the foot of the bed and mimics Tony’s position. He thinks for a long while, Tony’s eyes remain unfocused, and then Steve starts talking mindlessly.

“Hey, Tony,” he whispers softly, it still sounds really loud in the dark room, but he continues. “I know you’re scared right now, I know what nightmares can do to you. I used to have them, you know, when I barely got to the orphanage. And then when I turned twelve, I used to be so afraid. I was frail, you see, and everything hurt me, so I was really scared. But I’m safe now, I learned how to realize that, that I can be strong. And even when I can’t do it all for myself, I knew I had Bucky there for me. I’m right here Tony, in this room, in this train, in these Games.” Steve swallows hard, he knows what he’s about to say is monumental and that it will reveal too much about his feelings, but Tony had taken the lead in the car ride to the station, and that gives Steve courage. His voice still cracks when he says “I’ll be right here.”

Tony’s voice makes him jump a foot into the air, and his heart pounds like it was to beat its way out of his chest. “Do you promise?”

“Yes,” Steve says fervently when Tony looks up to him like he’s afraid that he let himself so wide open. Steve tries to pour as much conviction and… affection into what he’s saying. God, the only thing he’s wanted for the past four years has been to have this boy. The only thing he’s wanted is to be so close to Tony the world didn’t know where Steve started and Tony began. “Yes, Tony, I’ll be right here through everything.”

Steve’s semi-calm heart starts beating like crazy again when Tony gets this devastated look on his face, he’s sure he’s somehow said the wrong thing. But Tony drops his gaze for a second, now Steve’s afraid of his own private panic attack, and then meets the blonde’s eyes again and clears his throat. “Well, get over here, then.” He says with his usual haughtiness, but it comes out tremulous and brittle. Steve complies immediately, going to sit next to the young genius. Tony snorts, though, and then slithers down to rest his head on Steve’s lap.

Steve wants to give a little cheer, Tony’s letting himself be vulnerable around him. He starts carding his fingers through the other boy’s hair, and Tony all but purrs into his thigh. Steve gives a contented sigh himself, and then leans back against the headboard and closes his eyes. He doesn’t have a single nightmare that night. It’s the only respite he’ll have for a very long time.

                                                                                                ***

Tony wakes up feeling a lot more refreshed than any other time he can remember, his head rests on something really soft and fingers are curled into some type of very smooth cloth. There’s fingers carding through his hair, the same thing he remembers from falling asleep, and it feels nice. No one’s ever done something like that for him before, and he finds a great deal of comfort in it. It’s very disorienting, it leaves him floundering, these deep feelings for someone else. He thinks maybe if things were different, if their situations were different, he wouldn’t be able to do it, but what the hell? He’s about to die, there’s absolutely no way he will come out of the arena at Steve’s expense, so he might as well bask in the feeling of Steve all around him, however fleeting it might be.

“Morning,” Steve whispers into his ear, like he’s afraid he’ll break this fragile bubble they’ve created. And it might, Tony thinks, if they don’t do anything about it. so he turns in Steve’s arms and brings their faces closer, _morning breath be damned_ , and gives Steve a chaste kiss on the lips. The other hums softly and his arms tighten around Tony’s pliant form.

“I think we should be getting up before Clint comes find us, don’t you?” Tony smiles at the blush that’s quick to rise to Steve’s cheeks. On the first leg of their journey the day before, they had all sat down together to eat and the elder man had given them a knowing smirk while the man that had reaped them just looked between them curiously for about five seconds before becoming disinterested. Steve had tried to keep a polite conversation going, but had been wasted efforts as Cling provided an inappropriate comment and Tony responded with a smug retort and a lewd smile

It had been mildly uncomfortable, but fun at the same time. Tony had tried to ease some of the discomfort in Steve by holding his hand under the table. This has only resulted in a comment from Clint that they better not be playing footsie under the table and Steve had almost died of embarrassment. He had excused himself, leaving Tony behind laughing and Clint chuckling. Tony had departed a while later after Clint had warned them that they had a very important day when they arrived at the Capitol the next day and he had gone to his room. He had hoped that the light atmosphere from dinner would keep the nightmares at bay, but that hadn’t worked out. Now here he was, with Steve’s arms wrapped snuggly around his warm form.

“That would not be comfortable,” Steve mumbles into his hair.

“Oh, come on, he’s kind of fun,” Tony giggles when one of Steve’s hands flicks him in the ear. They stay there for a while before Steve decides he better get up and gives Tony a last kiss as he goes. One of the Avoxes is making his way to Tony’s room just as Steve’s getting off the bed, however, and his eyes widen significantly before he beats a hasty retreat. Tony finds out Steve can make his face go into interesting colors in that moment.

When they make their way to the dining cart, Steve has somehow regained his usual complexion; they are greeted with the man from the Capitol and Clint. Justin, as it turns out he has an outrageously common name, babbles about how amazing it is to be there with them. How they will get to go to the parade, and have people fawn over them and wear _absolutely fantastic_ customs and Tony is _this_ close to snapping at him that he doesn’t want to be wrapped in some fucking fancy cloth before he’s shoved to his death when Steve’s fingers wrap around his and give him a reassuring squeeze. He shuts his mouth quickly, noticing how Clint snaps his mouth shut as if he was about to reprimand him, and goes back to glaring at the table while they eat.

They arrive a little bit later, and they don’t have more than two minutes for one stolen kiss before they’re dragged in two different directions and towards their stylist. Tony gets scrubbed, shaved, waxed and ultimately molested by a group of very perky colorful people, and ends up looking the color of a cooked shrimp. He’s shoved into a cold, blank grey room into a gown that disturbingly resembles one of those they put people on in hospitals. He has never seen one but he’s heard of them, and he figures this is close to that.

He waits for what feels like forever before a lady in maybe her late twenties comes in. she’s wearing loose pants and a sort of tunic thrown over the upper half of her body. Her long brown hair is slightly wavy and she’s got dark mascara and a hint of green eyeliner covering her eyes. She’s the least colorful person Tony’s seen besides Clint. She smiles at him and drags as stool over to sit down close to where Tony’s sitting in the little bed.

“Hello, Tony, my name is Mia, and I will be your stylist” a small flicker goes on in the back of Tony’s mind and he remembers she’s been the stylist for three for the last few years. She extends her hand to him and he hesitantly shakes her. He hates that he does this when he’s with strangers, out of his comfort zone, he goes back to being a little kid. Give him a room full of people trying to get his attention, and he’s golden. Trying to force him to have a one-on-one? No, then he shakes and stumbles on his words and just ultimately humiliates himself. It’s what happened when he tried to talk to Steve the first time.

“Hello, Mia my stylist,” Tony says quietly and it grants him a laugh. He smiles hesitantly up at her, and decides that she is nice. She’s not over the top or extremely colorful and weird, which immediately puts her in his nice list.

“Are you hungry?” she raises an eyebrow when he tries to say no, so he just ends up nodding his head a little bit and biting his lip. She giggles at him again, and he knows she finds him cute, but he can’t find it in himself to be mad at her about it. So he just smiles, and this time’s a little more genuine.

They have lunch together, some kind of grain-made noodles with a kind-of-salty-in-a-cheesy-way sauce and some grilled chicken with herbs. It’s the best thing he’s ever had, even if he never lacked food growing up it wasn’t as fancy as this, and then he gets served something Mia calls “chocolate cake” and he lets out the most indecent sound ever. He can’t be bothered to care, though, as they serve him another plate. They talk about what can be expected of the games, and Tony tries to not feel as scared as he actually is. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen, but he’s weary of a few of his competitors. He knows the kids from 4 and 1 can be easily taken out, they aren’t the brawniest that have been picked in the last few years, and 4 doesn’t have Finnick anymore since his disappearance the year before. So, they are ruled out pretty easily. Tony is, however, concerned with District 2, the dude from there is as big as Steve and that proves a challenge.

After they’re done with their food, Mia takes Tony to what she calls her office. She takes some measurements from his body, though Tony doesn’t know why her hands come so close to his crotch, and then she leaves him alone. She tells him he can eat whatever he wants, but unfortunately he can’t use the TV, and then she goes out the door. He becomes bored quickly, and he seriously considers hacking into the technology in the room but maybe that isn’t so hot. Plus, if he gets in trouble out of the arena, he becomes a bigger target within it, Katniss proved that, and by default so does Steve. So he waits as the light in the room changes and the sun begins to set.

What feels like an eternity later, Mia comes back into the room with a black plastic _something_ in her hands. She motions for him to follow her and they take him back to what he affectionately had begun calling _the Torture Chamber_ as he was stripped of body hair. Calling it _Dungeon_ seemed to enjoyable and sexual for him, so. She makes him strip of his, honestly, skimpy robe as she passes him items. A pair of silk boxers, _what the fuck even?_ Followed by a body suit made of some stretchy material that fits him like a black, second skin. Then she starts assembling a… something. Its red and gold in color, and its’ made of some metal on the outside but the same kind of material on the inside. As she’s assembling it, he feels like it might be uncomfortable, but it’s not. There’s something on the chest piece, and it seems to glow a steady white-blue. It takes him a second to get why it felt so familiar as she was assembling it, but now that it’s all done and he can see himself in the mirror he can’t help the breath that leaves him.

“Your father sent me a few designs to… _inspire_ me,” Mia says with a mischievous glint in her eye. He stares at her with his mouth hanging open, but then he does the only thing he can think of and launches himself at her, hugging her tight.

“Thank you, thank you, its way better than my design!”

“Your father said it contained a lot of other… stuff, but I could only use the outside design. Is it anything like what you imagined?”

“Yeah, I’m not an artist. The original one was… kind of rough around the edges. This is so much better, and the _colors!”_ Tony knows he sounds like a girl, going crazy with the outfit, but it was his design. True, at the beginning it was supposed to be armor for war. He designed it with the excuse of making things better for the Capitol, but that had never been his angle. Things were a lot tenser now, especially after Peeta had won the previous year, and Katniss had been killed. So, Tony, like pretty much everyone else, had been harboring the idea of a revolution. All of his designs had been made for that, some had gone to the Capitol because of Obi, but the very _good_ ones were still hidden in his systems and his brain.

“There’s one more thing,” she says with a smile. She brings over this type of… helmet, it won’t cover his eyes but it will cover the back of his head. It’s like a welder’s protective headpiece, but instead of one horizontal slit for the eyes it has what look like eyes of its own. It’s a semi-triangular gold face in it and where the ears should be and the back are a solid red. She lowers the front, Tony was thinking it wouldn’t do that, and he sees everything in an HUD screen, and a posh, comforting voice sounds in his ear.

“Welcome, Sir, the Mark II is ready for test flight,” his AI, it’s here with him. His most wonderful creation was with him, and he can’t hide the amount of comfort that gives him. He sniffles behind the mask before pulling it back.

“Thank you, Mia, it’s wonderful,” he manages to croak out. She smiles back at him, and there are little tears pooled in her eyes before they both get themselves under control. She leads him out of the room and towards the elevator, and then he starts to fee nervous. He feels like he will throw up in the next three seconds, and he swallows the bile down.

“Tony, you’re fine,” Mia tries to comfort him. But all he manages is an _uh-huh­_ and he starts wiggling his hands again. She giggles at him again when the elevator comes to a halt, and then gives him a glance over. She brushes imaginary lint from his shoulder and readjusts his suit before looking him straight in the eye. “Steve is down there, and there is nothing more important than that, right?”

“Yeah, okay, yeah.”

“And if you look good with him, then he looks good as well, and he will get more sponsors, right?” Tony nods because that’s all that matters to him, keeping Steve safe, so he steels himself and moves out of the elevator. It’s easy to walk in the suit, and he knows he looks badass as he moves through the carriages, towards his.

Steve’s already there when they arrive, and this time Tony can admit that he gasps. The other boy is a suit similar to his; only this one is blue and white and has a glowing white star in his chest. He doesn’t have a faceplate, but he has something that looks like a shield strapped to his arm. He’s tall, bulky, and uncomfortable as hell. His hair is perfectly combed and parted, some of it flopping to his eyes, and his blue eyes are huge. He’s too fucking adorable for words, and Tony is so fucking done because there is no way he will let him get hurt. He just kind of wants to put him in his pocket and keep him there, safe and warm, forever. And okay, yeah, he’s officially a girl now. Nice.

It’s all worth it when Steve and the other stylist turn to him and the blond breaks into a wide grin. He bites his lip as he gives Tony’s armor clad body a thorough once over. “Whoa, Tony, you look amazing,” he looks like he’s about to grab his hands but then he halts himself and looks at the ground.

They announce the start of the tribute parade, and they are forced onto their carriages. Steve’s still looking mighty uncomfortable as they are pulled out, Tony’s kind of glad to see their costumes are more badass than the rest that he can see, and they are soon out within the masses. Steve swallows hard enough for Tony to hear, even with the roar of the crowd, and he turns to see a plastic smile on his face. That just won’t do, so he leans over and grins as he talks into his ear.

“If we get through this, I promise there’s a lot of kissing coming later,” when he pulls back he waggles his eyebrows in a way that had gotten a laugh out of Steve on the train, and he doesn’t disappoint. Steve smiles at him, a real smile, and Tony catches a glance of how incredible he looks in the holoscreens. He counts that as a win and leans back, he wants to hold the other man’s hand but he knows he can’t, so he just smiles and waves and basks in Steve’s solid form next to his.

                                                                                            ***

Steve wakes up the morning after the parade the way he woke up on the train, with Tony warm and safe right beside him. The genius’ head is on his shoulder, his nose nuzzled into his neck, while one hand clutches at his shirt. Despite his discomfort at the parade, the rest of the night hadn’t gone so bad. Apparently they had become one of the favorite couple of tributes, and he tries not to think about what that’s meant in the past, and then they had gone back to their rooms. Dinner had been a quiet affair; Clint said he didn’t want to talk much with the man from the Capitol there, so he leaves it for later.

Today, they’re going to begin their training with the other tributes. He wakes Tony up; they kiss lazily for a while, then they change into the training outfits they have been given. They’re simple shorts and sleeveless shirts, everything is black. Then make their way to the dining room. Clint is there but he doesn’t talk much, he just tells them to keep their most important talents to themselves, and then grins at them. They hold hands in the elevator, and then with one final squeeze, they move towards the training center.

They stand through the survival tips from one of the instructors, and then they make their way through the whole room looking for things to do. Steve goes to the survival training, but Tony has already done those as experiments in his little lab. He looks around, avoiding anything electric, and finds the tributes from 1 and 2 looking at him. The boy from 1 gives him a glance over and immediately dismisses him, Tony can tell. Steve can see every movement from Tony; he can see how he bristles and how his spine straightens. Steve immediately abandons his survival station, and tries to shadow Tony; he knows the other boy feels his presence. He shakes his head, but Steve still follows him. he’s a little surprised as he make his way towards the trainers and picks up a long staff that is shaped like a sword. The whole training ground is like a maze, with poles they have to balance on and obstacles they have to run over. Throughout it, trainers are set up to pose a fight, and the other tributes who have tried to go through it have ended before reaching the end, even the ones from 1 and 2.

Tony stations himself at the beginning and rotates his neck, hefts the “sword” in his hand, and looks at the obstacles before him. Steve would have sword he sees the calculations going behind Tony’s eyes, but he can’t understand them. He runs toward his first obstacle, it’s a scaling wall that has moving hand and foot-holds. Steve can’t deny the fact that Tony gets through that in less than a minute. As soon as he touches ground, he’s rushed by a trainer. He dodges easily, clashing his staff with the other man’s, and then parries an equal blow. The other man is bigger than him, but Tony takes him down in three minutes or less. Then Tony has to crawl under a mesh, his small body is perfect for that. His upper body is barely out of the mesh before a blow comes at his head, and he rolls over before it connects with his head. Tony gets his body out but doesn’t manage to get past a crouch before he needs to parry another sword blow. Tony struggles with the next blow, but Steve sees his eyes dart downwards, and then the assailant is on his back and Steve can see Tony trying to make himself stop before he knocks him out. He moves to the next obstacle, and this one’s the one that usually gets people out, it’s a series of step-like structures that Tony has to jump through, while at the same time getting attacked by three trainers. They’re bigger and heavier than Tony, and they are very good at what they do. Tony loses his balance from the get-go, and the Careers begin to laugh and turn away, but then there’s a heavy thump, and one assailant gets kicked out. Then Tony continues to move in a flow of movement and hits, and he looks amazing while doing it. At one point, he flips over his assailant and goes down with him. Within minutes, Tony’s at the end. He’s sweaty and breathing heavily, but he’s the first one to finish the course.

Steve has to restrain himself from going up to him and pulling him into his arms. The whole sweaty look is definitely doing it for him, and when Tony turns to give him a little wink and a knowing smile, he has the ridiculous urge to fan himself. The Careers are huddled in a little pack, talking amongst themselves and turning to look at Tony. This could go two ways. They will either request him as part of their pack, or they will put a price on his head. When the boy from 1 decapitates a dummy with one blow, Steve thinks he’s pretty certain he knows the answer. Tony seems to know as well, if the change in stance is any indication, but he is not afraid. Tony motions towards the elevator, and they make their way there for lunch.

As soon as the doors close, Steve links their fingers together and squeezes. There’s a horrible feeling in his gut, something that tells him Tony put himself in display to switch targets from Steve to Tony himself, and he hates it. Tony squeezes his hand back, and still looking ahead, he tells him “I don’t want anyone but you in there with me.” Steve can only nod.


End file.
